


Get The Decorator In

by ElfyDwarf



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Eventual Smut, Flirting, M/M, Painter/Decorator, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex, Sexual Tension, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-04-13 13:05:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4523196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElfyDwarf/pseuds/ElfyDwarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Durin Manor is in need of a face lift and Thorin begrudgingly allows Dis to call in a decorator to do it up as Thorin works too much and too hard to even dust the place. If he knew how to hang wallpaper, he would, but watching a cute, enigmatic blond do it for him, and in white dungarees no less, well... that's just a pain in the arse he must tolerate, isn't it?</p><p>One shot, multiple chapters, not sure how many. Yet. PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. At Your Service

**Author's Note:**

> i got struck by a paintbrush shaped idea and well... i think painter!Bilbo is wonderful and closed in, anti-socialite Thorin is fun to wind up! nothing gained, nothing made. Work of fiction. PWP. rating may increase, it depends on how hard I'm (They're) going to go.

 

Thorin groaned and stuffed his face into his hands as he listened, albeit by force, to his sister click her tongue over and over and mutter and complain about _everything_ in the house. It wasn't his fault it was so dated, but then again, it kind of was. Living in the manor wasn't so much living in it as much as it was sleeping and showering. He worked ridiculous hours and Dis knew that. So if he only saw the hallway, the bathroom and his bedroom and took absolutely no notice of anything else, not even the kitchen – he ate at work – then was he really to blame?

 

“... someone to do a number on it,” Dis hummed, her finger to her lip as she turned to assess the damage she was dishing out to her brother's poor brain, “Thorin!” she barked, smirking when he jumped and wobbled against the dusty chair behind him.

 

“What?” he hissed, running his hands through his hair and deciding she was a rat-bag and that he needed a hair cut.

 

Dis chuckled, “I _said_ , I think you should hire someone to do a number on this place, you know, a decorator?”

 

“I can do it,” he scowled, folding his arms over his chest. She looked unimpressed by how the shirt stretched over his muscles, completely used to his habit of trying to look terrifying and capable of anything.

 

“Yes, of course, because you've done such a cracking job so far, haven't you?” she drawled, her face blank as she mimicked his stance and raised just one eyebrow, “Know what a duster is?”

 

“Get out.”

 

“It's not like I'm asking you to go to B and Q and buy the stuff, paint and paper and _gloss_. Hire someone to do it for you. We've enough cash in the family account to cover this house in plate gold if we so wished. No arguing. In fact, I'll call myself and text you the details. This place is... it belongs... no, _it is_ a museum. If you are going to live here, it needs to be liveable-”

 

“It is!”

 

“- _otherwise,_ we sell it.”

 

Thorin put his hands up in defeat and Dis smiled, triumphant and smug, “As you wish.”

 

“You know I'm right. Now, I have to go, I've got a coffee date with the girls!” she looked too happy about it for Thorin, but he returned the kiss on the cheek and listened to her heels banging through the manor until the door shut. Thorin have a groan of relief and wandered to the kitchen, frowning at the stale state of it all and turned heel to leave for the Costa 3 miles away.

 

–

 

It was 3 days later, on Friday morning, 9AM, that the decorator was due to knock the door, or attempt the millennia old dragon door-knocker, and Thorin was waiting for them, at 10:15AM sitting on the bottom of the staircase facing the door with a Costa cup in his hands a scowl on his face. Nothing said 'welcome to my abode, you're _late_ arsehole' quite like a murderous glare. His face stayed the same as he pulled out his phone.

 

**From Dis: There yet?**

 

**To Dis: No. I took a day off for this bullshit, if they don't show, you owe me expensive wine and food.**

 

**From Dis: Noted.**

 

It was half past when the door clanged with the knocker and Thorin almost threw his drink over his head. He hadn't expected the booming even though he had heard them approach on the gravel. He grumbled and got up, calmed himself a little and answered the door, finding a short, curly-haired blond man with a bright smile wearing white dungarees and a green t-shirt on the other side.

 

“Mr Durin?” he asked, too cheerful for someone who was an hour and half late. Thorin gave a stiff nod and put his hand out.

 

“I am. You realise you are late don't you?” he asked, fully intending the harsh bite to his voice as the man took his hand shook it with a firm grip. Thorin's rudeness did nothing to dampen his jovial demeanour.

 

“I'm sorry about that. You live out in the middle of nowhere and my Sat Nav couldn't find you. I had to double back three times, I think? To find someone for directions. I had no number to contact you with either. I apologise,” he spoke softly, sincerely and it threw Thorin a little, “Oh! I'm Bilbo, Bilbo Baggins. At your service, Mr Durin.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Baggins,” Thorin smiled and caught it before it spread up his face to his eyes. Bilbo was making him feel _nice_ and Thorin scowled as he let Bilbo walk in, remembering that he was late, late, _late_! 

 

“I was told by your wife that-”

 

“Sister.”

 

Bilbo turned to Thorin with a childlike manner, his mouth open a little and a gleam in his eye, “-  _ sister _ , right. She said the entire house needed to be looked over? I agree with her comment on the dated look. If you hadn't answered, I'd say no one lived here. Still, perhaps you don't?” he was eyeing the cup in Thorin's hand.

 

“I live here,” Thorin rumbled and felt rather annoyed at the smile he got. This character was confusing him. He was gorgeous. Wait, _what_ -

 

“So, as man of the manor, what would you like me to do exactly?”

 

_ Get the hell out and go back to the pot of joy you crawled out from _ , “Well. Dis reckons everything needs to be touched up or redecorated or  _ destroyed _ . Every room is dated and it'll take a long time.”

 

Bilbo gave a nod or three, humming as he gazed up at the walls of the foyer, “Time is something I have, don't you mind that. Are we talking modernisation or homely?”

 

“I've no idea what you just said,” Thorin said flatly and Bilbo tittered, something Thorin found fascinating, they way his face brightened further. 

 

“Show me around and we'll talk ideas, how about that?” Bilbo offered, stuffing his hands down into the large pocket on the front of his dungarees, rocking back on the heels of his brown boots. Thorin gave a small tip of his head and waved his hand toward the door way to the right of the stairs and followed behind Bilbo. He almost slapped himself and crushed his cup in his hand when his eyes latched onto the round, bouncing arse of the decorator walking in front of him, the fabric clinging and pulling taut with each step. It was enticing, hypnotic and Thorin cursed his sister and the damnable décor and his lack of a sex life. _Mahal_.

 

–

 

It took so long to go through the entire building that when Thorin checked his watch, he groaned loud and Bilbo tipped his head with a frown.

 

“Something wrong? Oh, I didn't keep you from anything did I? I just wanted to make sure that everything was as you desired before we penned anything into the diary.”

 

Thorin put his hand up and smiled, a soft thing that he didn't really know he was doing until Bilbo was gazing at him, “No, it's nothing. I just can't believe how long it took to talk about designs.”

 

“Must be boring you then?” Bilbo chuckled, tucking his pen behind his ear. Thorin wanted to say 'no, of course not, I find your voice enthralling and alluring', but he firmly kept his mouth closed, shaking his head instead, “Well then, if you are alright with what I've suggested, I can be back on Monday to strip down. Sound good?”

 

Thorin almost lost his eyebrows they shot up so fast, “Beg your pardon?”

 

“The paper, Mr Durin,” Bilbo said, not understanding Thorin's surprise, nor the reason behind his twitching fingers and clenching jaw. It wasn't as though he would mind if Bilbo-

 

“Oh, yes, right, yes, yes, that's great Mr Baggins,” he could feel his heart beating in his neck and he turned towards the front door, flashing his eyes wide at the wall opposite. What the fu-

 

“Then I will contact you Sunday afternoon to arrange the necessary,” Bilbo smiled, putting his hand out again to shake and Thorin found he had to wipe his palms on his trousers before taking it, “Thank you for listening. Most would usually just throw money at me and tell me a day, a colour and leave it at that.”

 

Thorin sighed as Bilbo let his hand drop, walking through the front door, “I rather liked envisioning what is to come,” Bilbo didn't need to know he had been envisioning  _ other _ things as he'd watched the blond get animated and excited, his mouth puffing when he sucked his bottom lip in thought, “It was a pleasure.”

 

Bilbo shot him a grin and if that wasn't coy, then Thorin had been inside for _ far _ too long, “Pleasure was mine. Goodbye, Mr Durin.”

 

“Bye,” Thorin mumbled, watching Bilbo's bum again. He shook from head to foot and ducked back inside, leaning his head against the door with a moan of despair. This was going to be a _challenge_. 

 

 

 


	2. Earl Grey and Taylor Swift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damn the radio and the way Bilbo looks. Thorin is going to break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's silly, this, but i'm having fun. Fear not, the steam will not only be on the walls, i can promise you that!!! thank you for the love you guys! UGH let me *hurls confetti* adore thee!

Monday afternoon found Thorin sitting in his unused kitchen staring at the dead clock on the wall with a tight frown. He had been asked, no, _told_ , to go home and relax a little after he had lost his temper with the linked computer system crashing in the middle of a conference with the CEO of the Italian branch. The computer had hit the wall and his desk was now missing a leg, nothing that Thorin had not done before, but the stress of the weeks previous had clearly reached his breaking point and his sister, called in by the secretary, had _sent_ him home.

 

To make matters worse, he now had a weeks holiday and no peace for Mr Baggins was haunting his house. The blond ghost was somewhere near the study from the sounds of it, not that Thorin thought to go check on him or anything, not like he would burgle him...

 

“Baggins!” Thorin roared, eyes watching the red hand on the clock twitch. The radio turned down and heavy footsteps banged on the wooden boards until they were coming through the archway into the kitchen.

 

“Mr Durin, everything alright? Wasn't being too loud was I?” Bilbo asked, rubbing his hands on the cloth hanging from his front pouch. Thorin turned to look at him at least, and the scowl was wiped clean. Bilbo was pink-cheeked and as smiley as ever, little pieces of torn paper in his hair and one such piece stuck to his jaw like a second skin.

 

“No. I'm going mad in here, and this kitchen is a waste of space, so I'm going to my watering hole. Want anything?” he tried not to sound like a complete bastard, but it was hard to change his brusque tone when it was the only one he really knew. Bilbo went unaffected again and merely _beamed_ at Thorin like he was the first sun after a thunderstorm.

 

“Would you mind? I've come to realise that this paper won't shift so easy so I've been moving and covering the furniture, heavy stuff you've got... but I could _kill_ for a cup of tea right now. I'll start with the stripper soon,” if he didn't stop smiling, Thorin was going to start and that was not something he wanted to do given how pissed off he was. No, he needed to fume, not grin like he found himself doing. That was wiped clean instantly and he got up, snatched his car keys off the counter and made for the door.

 

“Any particular tea?”

 

“Surprise me!” with that cheerful little fiend strolling off to the study again, Thorin shot out the door and found himself mulling over the damn word 'stripper' and had to keep reminding himself it was a machine.

 

–

 

Upon entering his house, Thorin was met with loud singing and a droning buzz that made his teeth rattle. He quickly put his keys on the counter and placed the cups down, pulling the bag of biscotti from his teeth to prevent the drool running down his chin. He picked up the cups and wandered towards the racket and when he walked into the study, he almost dropped them down his legs. Bilbo was swaying his hips very fast to the radio, singing out over the sound of the machine as he pelted the wall with steam.

 

“Shake it off, ah ah ah!” Bilbo wailed, hopping a little side to side. Thorin, for the life of him, _could not_ look away. Not from the way his waist moved, not from the bounce of his hair or the tiny paper flecks in it, not from his arse. He was thankful for the noise as it covered his embarrassing little whimper and the cough that asserted his manliness. He straightened his back and held the cups up as Bilbo switched the machine off and turned around, shrieking through his mask and falling against the wall with his hand over his heart, “ _Shit_! Oh, I'm _sorry_ , that slipped out, so sorry. Wish you'd not sneak up on me, even if you bring gifts.”

 

“Don't apologise, my fault entirely. I should have given you some kind of warning that I was standing here,” _watching you like some creepy idiot._ “I got you earl grey. You strike me as someone who dabbles in flavoured tea.”

 

Bilbo took the cup as he took down his mask and he chuckled, “That I am. Thank you! _Oh_ , this is good,” he inhaled the aroma and _moaned_. Thorin, cup of mocha half way to his lips, stared and Bilbo either didn't see him, or had and was fully aware of what he was doing, moaned again as he sipped the drink. Thorin coughed and quickly turned from the room, almost upending himself as he swivelled around the covered furniture and ladders. Once back in the dusty safety of his kitchen, he heaved in air and set the cup down with shaky fingers.

 

“ _What the fuck was that_?!” he whispered, rubbing his hands over his face quickly to eradicate the sound echoing in his ears and the effect it was having on his body. He was flushing hot and cold and his skin tingled as though he was in the acupuncturist’s office. Bilbo's footsteps clanged and Thorin quickly hauled himself up on the stood at the breakfast bar, hiding his lower half from view as Bilbo came into the kitchen looking concerned, or at least Thorin classed it as such, for his brow was creased and his mouth was without a smile for once.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Bilbo tipped his head forward and side-eyed the man haunched over his coffee as he fingered the rings on his hands, “Certain of that?”

 

Thorin sniffed and forced a smile onto his face, praying he wasn't still flushed, “Of course. Why? Are you not?” he popped the ring on his finger off and then on again, repeating it until he was sure he would have a blister as a painful reminder of his childish flee.

 

“No, no I'm great,” Bilbo said softly, disbelief etched into his face, “Well. I'm going to keep stripping. If you, well, need me, just bang on something to get my attention. Don't want to shed more years off my life, do we?”

 

“Great, yes, fine. Alright. Thank _you_ ,” Thorin blubbered and Bilbo cracked a toothy grin as he sauntered from the kitchen, banging his route towards the study. After a tense moment, the radio started up and the machine buzzed and Thorin lay his face on the bar, staring at the blurred letters on his cup. Bilbo was stripping. Nothing in the world could prevent his mind from spinning images, nothing, not even the knowledge that it was a _machine_.

 

–

 

“...stripped bare,” Bilbo said and Thorin's head reeled again.

 

Thorin looked up from his tablet and stared at Bilbo who stood in the arch of the kitchen, covered from head to toe in wisps of paper and a sheen of sweat. Smiling. Damn it all.

 

“Sorry?”

 

“The study is stripped bare,” Bilbo repeated and Thorin sighed deeply, rubbing his eyes, “Are you sure you're alright Mr Durin?”

 

“Yeah, I'm fine. Just got a lot in my head is all,” Thorin offered with a smile, one that was echoed brighter from Bilbo and again Thorin sighed, though this one was heavy and wistful. Why did he have to smile so much? Why did he have to have such an effect on Thorin? Why, oh why, couldn't he just strip off his papery dungarees and climb atop the breakfast bar...

 

“It is late. I lost the time, I am sorry. I'll come tomorrow afternoon, instead of morning, so you can have a bit of time to relax. I'll start the library, as it's adjoining. Should be starting the grouting and painting by the end of the week, for those two rooms anyway. Two a week, as agreed, so I'm sorry to say you have to tolerate me for a while yet, Mr Durin!” Bilbo laughed, light and clearly nervous as Thorin had yet to quit his staring.

 

“Thorin,” it was out of Thorin's mouth before he could even understand what the word was. Bilbo blinked.

 

“Sorry?”

 

“My name, it's Thorin,” he said softly, a fond smile on his face as Bilbo raised his brow and tipped his head, mulling his name over, “If you are to be here for a while, then you should know my name,” to test the water, or to create a tidal wave, Thorin dropped his pitch and said, “Bilbo.”

 

Bilbo shook, and it was not missed by Thorin one bit, “ _Oh_. Ok then. Well, I'm away now, so I will see you about 1 tomorrow.”

 

“I'll be here. Knock the dragon twice and let yourself in, it'll be unlocked.”

 

Bilbo gave a nod and wandered out, creaking the front door as he opened it, “Goodnight. _Thorin_.”

 

Bilbo did not see the full bodied shiver as the door banged shut, and was oblivious to the groaning of the lord of the manor as he lolled his head back on his shoulder and ran his fingers through his hair, cursing decorating flirts who did not know they were flirting and _most definitely_ did not know the effect they were having, or did and it was entirely frustrating. Thorin growled and took himself to bed, determined not to think about Bilbo or his backside or his sweet voice and cheeky smile as he stuffed his head into his pillows. So if he was to wake to a raging erection, then that would be totally normal and altogether everything to do with the normal behaviour of a penis whilst in REM and not the bloody decorator. He swore at the ceiling and the taunting glow of his digital alarm. 

 


	3. Damn it, Dis!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is having a time of it today and Dis keeps on interrupting 'something' much to Thorin's annoyance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's such a late update, but life just life's at me sometimes and it's hard to write. But here it is, i hope not to be so lethargic with the next one and i HOPE you like this one :) it's from Bilbo's POV. He's excitable!

Chapter three

 

It was mid-morning and Bilbo hummed as he wandered around the wallpaper section of B&Q for a suitable match for the study and library; so far, having only seen Mr Durin - _Thorin_ \- twice, he'd noticed he went for dark colours in what he wore and even though the manor was dated, a lot of the colouring was dark and moody too. So, he vowed to change that a little as the man had pretty much given him free reign, trusting his eye and skill. He smiled to himself and picked up the end roll of a paper that was striped, thick and thin green variations on grey. Too much. He stepped back and spied a horizontal striped one, thick lines in a woody brown effect, cream and a light grey, shimmery and light, in repetition. He put five rolls in the trolley and moved along, his eyes finding the prefect match to continue into the library with; ivory with a swooping, geometrical design that ran vertically up the paper like curvaceous, ever going figures of eight, deep brown overlapping mink lines behind, not too hard on the eye as they were large swooping lines, but certainly caught the attention. It would compliment the browns in the study, and so, he smiled and scooped up as many rolls as he thought he would need and then another to be safe.

 

“Morning Bif!” he cheered as he approached the paint station.

 

“Hello there, how can I help you today, Bilbo?” beamed the chap at the desk.

 

“Something to match these two. I'd search the shelves but you know what I'm like with paint, I can never really make up my mind. Can you help me find or mix up the perfect tones?” he held up one of each of the different rolls and Bif smiled, nodding as he took them.

 

“Certainly can. Darker or lighter?”

 

“Well, with the stripes, lighter as it's a small room,” Bilbo rubbed the back of his neck in thought, “With the geo, fawn, but a muddier shade if you can? It's for the facing wall. It's a library, you see, and I'm going to use 'cookie dough' on the longer walls to bring out the bookcases. I love that creamy shade, goes with almost anything.”

 

“Ah, so it's you who keeps me ordering it. You know, Bilbo, we have something called 'burning embers' which is a nice, light shade of orange, more of muted gold if you go by the dulux book, but it would go nicely with the striped paper and not close the room in,” Bif said as he ducked down behind his station and lifted up a book of shades, leafing through until he found the page and tapped the block, “It'll dry a shade lighter than the bands in the paper. Would go nice with pretty much any furniture in the room, and plenty of choice with mixing up colour in the decorations if you wanted to incorporate black or silver or darker wood. I wouldn't recommend it for light wooden furniture, it'd be a bit much.”

 

Bilbo chuckled, “Trust me, everything is dark wood or black. The floorboards are original and gorgeously stained, so this will go perfectly,” he almost added in that the man of the manor was just as beautiful but caught his tongue before it wagged.

 

“There's an 'intense chestnut' brown that would do well for your geo paper,” Bif found the block in the book and Bilbo almost giggled, “but I can add in a splash of brown to warm it up a little more if you prefer? It's quite dark but again, will dry lighter, so it might not fit as well. Adding a bit more brown should keep it dark, but not dull. Or there's this 'hazelnut truffle', but I think it's too bright a brown for this design.”

 

“Hmm, yes, bit too brown. Chestnut please, if you wouldn't mind?”

 

“Mind, of course I don't mind, Bilbo. I rarely get customers who are as enthusiastic about paint as you are, so it's a pleasure to help,” Bif gave him a warm smile and put the book away, moving out of the station to wander down the aisle in search of the paints, running his fingers through his salt and peppered hair.

 

“I'll need probably three of the chestnut and two ember,” Bilbo called.

 

“Four and three then?” Bif shouted and Bilbo laughed lightly, “It'll take me about half an hour to mix the browns, so if you want to go get a tea in the cafe I'll get you over the tannoy and meet you at the checkouts?”

 

“Thank you! See you in a little while then,” Bilbo tucked his trolley against the desk and gave Bif a wave as the man climbed a set of ladders in search, beaming down as Bilbo walked by and through the store to locate himself a breakfast roll and a nice cup of tea.

 

–

 

Bilbo pulled in through the gates leading to the manor slowly, careful not to send his ladders clattering into the giant brick posts nor flying down to the floor and subsequently scratching the paint off his van again. They were tethered down enough, but still, he would have a trial getting them back on the roof without Frodo and his friends to help. He pulled up by the front of the house and switched the engine off, frowning at the fluttering in his stomach and put it down to the food he'd eaten and not the fact that Thorin was hiding in the manor somewhere, most likely nursing a scowl and a cup of coffee. It was almost 1pm, so he slid from his seat and opened up the side of the van, reaching in for the backing paper and a bucket filled with packets of adhesive paste.

 

“Need a hand?” Thorin's voice was as deep and encompassing as a raging river, washing over Bilbo and surrounding him so quickly that he dropped the bucket, jumping out of the way so he didn't smash his toes or crack his shin, “Sorry, I scared you again. I fixed the hinges, well, I WD-40'ed them so the door doesn't scream anymore when it's opened. Are you alright?”

 

“Fine, fine, no need to apologise,” Bilbo rushed as he bent to clear up the strewn packets and put them back in the bucket. As he stood and turned, he dropped it again as his grip slipped and he stared at Thorin. He'd had a hair cut and Bilbo's brain stopped working.

 

“Bilbo?” Thorin edged towards the blonde curiously with his hands in the pocket's of his suit trousers. He was without a jacket and the sleeves of his black shirt rolled to his elbows but his _hair_ , his hair was all Bilbo could see. It was cut short back and sides and the top slightly longer, able to be gelled back in a swept look if wished, but as it was, it was clean and a little fluffy in the sun, and it _made_ Thorin's face.

 

“Caught my finger on the plastic handle, no bother,” Bilbo muttered in a flat tone, quickly ridding himself of paralysis and scooping up the bucket again with a quick smile, “Carry some backing paper for me, please?” he coughed and waved to the van as Thorin walked close enough, nodding lightly with a mild scowl as he moved to collect the plain rolls, his forearms swelling with the weight and Bilbo had to walk away, quick steps in to the manor without looking back to see Thorin's biceps bulging as he heaved up eight rolls, “ _Have mercy_.”

 

“Where do you want me?” Thorin called, following with big strides of his impossibly long legs, and Bilbo had to bite his cheek to keep his lucid tongue from shouting back, 'on me' as he flew into the library and sucked in a deep breath before Thorin plodded in behind him, dropping the rolls on the covered armchair when Bilbo pointed.

 

“You're a star!” Bilbo gushed, rushing to catch a wayward roll as it made for the floor; he caught it as Thorin dipped to catch it himself, his giant, hot hand and long fingers wrapping around Bilbo's wrist tightly rather than the paper and they both froze.

 

“Sorry-”

 

“I was going for the-”

 

Bilbo clicked his mouth shut and slowly rose as Thorin stretched up to stand, staring at the decorator with bright blue eyes swirling with _something_. Neither dropped the grip they had, instead edging closer until the loose edge of Bilbo's front pouch had the end of Thorin's sapphire tie sitting in it and the lord himself tipping forward ever-so-slowly, breathing audible and warm where it ghosted Bilbo's nose. _Oh my god_ , Bilbo's head squealed when he found himself opening his mouth a little, wetting his top lip with his tongue, something Thorin's deep gaze set on and the man rumbled in his chest, _what the hell are you doing?! You're made of strong stuff, Baggins, resist!_

 

“Your pulse is going bananas,” Thorin whispered, though his voice was so deep is could have been spoken, and Bilbo shivered bodily. _Oh, no_. _Give in!_

 

“Wonder why that is,” he muttered back, transfixed on the plump bottom lip of the god stood over him, his fingers flexing against the flesh of Bilbo's wrist almost as though he was trying to tug him impossibly close for a -

 

“Thorin?” came a shout from the foyer and the man himself deflated and shot back quickly, dropping Bilbo's wrist and turning from the room like a heat seeking missile.

 

“What?” he barked in the hall and Bilbo had to sit on the arm of the chair to calm himself down. He wiped his hand down his face and absently set the paper on the seat, caring little when it slid and hit the floor with a bang.

 

“Table,” he said to himself and left the room, dodging behind Thorin as he stood with his arms folded in the middle of the foyer, staring down a woman with a high bun on her dark head, dressed in a cut suit with a slab of papers in her outstretched arms.

 

“Ah, the decorator! Hello there, I'm Dis. I'd shake your hand but my brother won't take his work load from me,” she smiled sweetly around Thorin's wide shoulders as Thorin turned to flash him a soft look, nothing exceptional, but not a scowl at least. Almost apologetic, “Take the papers!” she hissed and Thorin groaned as he turned from Bilbo, unfurling his arms at last.

 

“Nice to meet you, Miss, now I have a face to the voice on the phone. Thank you, by the way, for calling me to do this,” Bilbo smiled, “It's a fantastic project to work on and I find I am really enjoying it,” he hoped she missed the glance he shot at Thorin's back, “I'm not intending to be rude, but I was just going to get my pasting table.”

 

“Need a hand, Bilbo?” Thorin rumbled, not turning as he was laden with work by a disgruntled looking Dis.

 

“I'll be alright, thank you,” Bilbo jogged out and down the steps quickly, just catching Dis croon over 'first name basis?' and he flushed, running to his van to thrown himself inside. It took too long to get the table free and by the time he had gotten it inside the library, Dis and Thorin had moved to the kitchen by the direction of their voices and were bickering, or at least Thorin was, Dis sounded delighted about something and no amount of Thorin's swearing or murderous grumbles quashed her mood.

 

Bilbo fussed about setting everything up he needed and fished about for the cloth in his pockets to give the walls in the study a quick once over to clean away any left over paper, looking for cracks or divots he needed to fill in. He set to his work and longed to switch on the radio, if only to distract his ears from the glorious tone of Thorin's wafting through to his ears, but he thought it would be rude seeing as they were chatting and he liked it loud.

 

“Goodbye Bilbo! I may see you again!” Dis hollered from the front door an hour later.

 

“Lovely to have met you!” Bilbo shouted from the top of the ladder, pot of filler resting on the lip dangerously.

 

“Bilbo?” Thorin called to which Dis chuckled, the sound distorting as though she had been shoved out of the door, “I have to go to my office for a quick meeting but I'll be back in a while. I'd lock the door but I'd rather not trap you in here, so I'll leave the keys on the breakfast bar if you need to go out for anything, alright?”

 

Bilbo blinked and cleared his throat, “That's great, fine, yes, I'm sure I'll not need to go anywhere but...yes!” he screwed his face up and thunked his head off the wall.

 

“Sure?” Thorin's appearance a moment later at the bottom of the ladder gave Bilbo such a fright that he jumped and sent himself hurtling to the ground; but of course, fate _loved_ him, and he found himself caught with a warm, strong arm around his chest and the other under the back of his thighs, a solid chest against his back heaving in air, “Bloody hell, sorry, I almost killed you this time. You OK?”

 

“I'm uh, I'm fine,” Bilbo said, flustered and finding it hard to concentrate with the warmth of Thorin's forearms seeming to leak into his skin, “Stop sneaking up on me though?”

 

“Mmmhmm,” Thorin's chest vibrated as he moved slowly, putting Bilbo on his feet and slowly unwinding his arm from his chest, “I'll be back soon,” he mumbled and it was precariously close to Bilbo's nape, waving over his ear in a warm sweep of promise that had Bilbo fighting to keep himself still and staring at his askew ladder.

 

“Right oh,” Bilbo whispered as Thorin didn't move away, his presence still close to Bilbo's back and his breath hot on his neck, ruffling the tiny hairs into standing to attention. Heat fluttered through Bilbo's legs and stomach and wound itself through him, around every bone and organ as it went straight for his groin.

 

“Bilbo?” Thorin said softly, his hands sliding up Bilbo's shoulder blades until they sat on his collar, thumbs touching the underside of his jaw lightly.

 

“Yes, Thorin?” he felt Thorin's hands tighten a little as he attempted to turn Bilbo.

 

“Thorin, for _fuck sake_! Move your backside!” Dis screeched from the foyer and Thorin growled such a noise that Bilbo bit his lip and his skin set alight with goosebumps. Thorin's hot and heavy presence was gone, his footsteps extremely loud as he stomped through the house and out of the front door with a litany of swear words and a bang as the front door shut behind him.

 

“Oh my goodness,” Bilbo panted against the ladder and gripped the sides with twitchy fingers, “Oh, _bloody hell_!” Flirting with such a man, he knew from the second he saw him, would be a dangerous game and yet, total annihilation was something he felt he could find himself enjoying for if Thorin could have such an effect on him, just in those few moments, then Bilbo needed to see what would happen if they were not interrupted. Thorin was molten and Bilbo's throat still tingled from his fingers. He turned to look in the room and out through to the library where the paper and paste in the other room glared at him and he sighed. He had a job to do first and he set himself on the task again, scooping up the filler where it had hit the floor before turning the radio on and up to full volume, quickly getting in the mode as he jiggled to Bruno Mars.

 

“Too hot? Damn _right_ he is, _rats_!” Bilbo smiled, climbing the ladder.


	4. Damn Principles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin's had enough but there's those sodding unspoken rules of employment, aren't there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for this, it's a little rushed, perhaps bad altogether.. I hope it's enjoyable at the least :) it'll get softer before it gets harder, the decorating won't do itself, but once done... well. Buckle that belt up.

 

 

Thorin pulled his Mercedes up to the front of his manor and swore when he realised that the block of white to the left, hidden in the manor's shadow, was not moonlight reflecting off of the fountain but actually Bilbo's van. He'd left his keys yes, but for Bilbo to stay put rather than leave and hide them somewhere with a note on the door, well, Thorin's chest ached a little as he got out of his car and tried not to slam it in annoyance at himself and the sodding work load he'd buried into. He scanned the van quickly to see if Bilbo was inside somewhere, sleeping in an awkward position, but he wasn't and Thorin quickly hopped up the steps and tried the door, finding it unlocked. He slipped in quietly, thanking the stars he'd oiled the hinges otherwise it'd be like a trumpet going off. The foyer was lit with the old lamps and a warm glow was emanating from under the door of the library. Thorin sighed and rubbed at his tired face as he contemplated what on earth he was going to do now. Wake Bilbo and get him to go home or let him sleep and be awkward in the morning?

 

“Could have called?” too busy staring at the door like it held the answer to everything ever asked, Thorin didn't see Bilbo wandering leisurely from the kitchen and so, naturally, crumpled a little and grasped his heart, his shout caught in his throat in a very manly squeal, “Revenge. Best served unexpectedly.”

 

“My... _poor_ heart!” Thorin breathed, turning to see Bilbo wide-eyed and sipping a steaming mug in his hands, eyes cheekily creased over the lip as he raised it to cover his glee.

 

“Welcome, heart of the Lord, to my world,” Bilbo chuckled and Thorin blinked, finding his happy demeanour off-putting as he had expected the little fellow to either be sound asleep or rather irritated, furious even, at his ignorance. “Look, I understand whatever job you have is really quite demanding and I don't hold you in any contempt for getting caught up in it. It _would_ have been nice to get a phone call or something, but as I'm a night owl, I found a good book and made something to eat, so I don't mind at all. Gave me chance to finish the study, save for the tiny details, the room is done. I'll show you in a moment, but first, come see what I did by accident in your kitchen!”

 

Thorin shook his head and tried to speak, but he couldn't. Bilbo was something he really wasn't about to figure out at all, so he frowned at the cheery face with wriggly eyebrows and followed his pert bottom through to the kitchen, “Oh my god.”

 

“I'm really sorry if I have stepped over a line but it just ground at my nerves seeing it covered in sheets and not as it rightfully should be. The kitchen is the heart of this manor I've noticed, so why treat it like a grave?” Bilbo chattered, smiling at his work, “Do you approve?” he asked quietly, now staring at the side of Thorin's face who was gazing about like a child in the Wonder Emporium.

 

“Bilbo,” Thorin gasped, moving into the room a bit more. It was clean, sheet-free and _gleaming._ The walls had been given a fresh lick of royal blue paint to bring out the slivered flecks in the white marble counter tops, contrasting with the pale wood of the cupboards and chrome fixtures and fittings. The floor had been cleaned too and the slate had never looked so grey, deep like a storm cloud under Thorin's shoes. The smell of the paint tickled Thorin's nose, and so did the smell of fresh coffee and toast. Thorin swallowed the lump in his throat and eyed all of the appliances as though they were brand new, sparkly as they were, and turned slowly as he took in the room until his eyes landed on Bilbo in his paint splattered dungarees, a sheepish smile on his face.

 

“Is it alright?”

 

“I can't-” Thorin shook his head and decided that words weren't good enough for this act of kindness, as the kitchen was supposed to only be painted, not _remade_. He quickly moved in and picked the blond up in a swooping embrace and turned him around with his face buried in Bilbo's chest, laughing as he held him tightly, “Thank you.”

 

“You're very welcome!” Bilbo cried, his hands tight on Thorin's shoulders as he held on, though he needn't worry, Thorin had him pretty tight in his arms, “You can put me down now, you know?”

 

Thorin slowed and carefully slid Bilbo down his body until the decorator was but standing on his tip-toes with his arms around Thorin's neck, his hands cupping his head. Thorin's hands were holding Bilbo by the waist, a heavy presence that was not forgotten easily as his green eyes widened when they squeezed involuntarily and Thorin let out a heavy breath through his nose. He didn't want to let go, not at all, and he moved only a little, a slight tip of his chin downward, but it was enough for Bilbo to whimper and let go quickly, separating himself from Thorin too quickly to be seen as normal.

 

“I will show you the study but this time, no spinning?” he rushed, the bright smile very tight as Bilbo turned and ventured through the manor to open the library door, Thorin on his heels with a frown. “Night owl I might be, but ballet dancer I am not. I get dizzy,” he chuckled and Thorin could see right through he attempt to lighten the mood, to get rid of the awkwardness between them, and Thorin chuckled back, though his face was blank. If Bilbo turned for a second, he wouldn't miss the confusion or question in the steely blue eyes.

 

“I'll keep my hands to myself,” Thorin muttered and watched how Bilbo sagged a little when he reached for the handle on the door to the study. He sighed and opened it to reveal the newly decorated room, empty except for Bilbo's ladder and radio, but it was marvellous, “Wow. You're truly gifted at this aren't you?”

 

“It's a knack,” Bilbo winked, hands clasped behind his back as he watched Thorin trace the designs on the wallpapered wall, “It'll look better once the furniture is back in here, and then I will touch up some areas before starting on the library. I have been thinking about the door most of the day.”

 

“The door?” Thorin grumbled from his stoop to get a good look at the different shades on the lines, “Why?”

 

“I was wondering if you'd be open to removing it? Gorgeous room as this is, it is a little suffocating once the door is shut, and as the bookcases in here match those in there, it'd look good opened out. Perhaps even remove the cases and put them in the library altogether, give your work space more room? It'd help you feel less trapped and more relaxed if you don't feel like you've no room,” Bilbo pointed out and Thorin turned to him and a small smile, nodding.

 

“I agree.”

 

“Well, that's great,” Bilbo was stumped that Thorin would agree so easily and leant against the doorway, “I'll get some help in tomorrow to move everything around and clear the library. This room needs overnight to dry out before I can give it a look over and deem it worthy. I've out done myself today and I feel a little sore for it so I'll plan mostly tomorrow, if that's alright?”

 

“Of course it is, you're the professional here Bilbo, I said to do what you please here, and I stand by it. So far, you've given me no reason to doubt you,” Thorin said, smiling softly as he moved across the room, “Besides that, I should thank you for staying here until this hateful hour. You should have gone home.”

 

Bilbo stood straighter and frowned, “You left your keys so I could hardly run out of here.”

 

Thorin took a step closer, “I know and I shouldn't have taken so long, but I did, and you stayed and did fantastic work and I can't thank you enough. Nor apologise either, for not ringing or sending my nephews around to get you back to your bed.”

 

“Think nothing of it. It's fine, honestly, I had fun, in my own strange way,” chuckled Bilbo as Thorin again, stepped closer.

 

“Night owl.”

 

“Hmm truly.”

 

They were standing close enough to touch, brief flicks of Thorin's fingers against the bare skin of Bilbo's forearm while Bilbo's ticking feet caught the toe of Thorin's shoe, “What's left to do now, do you think?” the question flew straight over Bilbo's pretty blond hair, missed entirely.

 

“I've just got the window frame to edge and to see if the backing paper bubbles up or not, not much really,” Bilbo smiled up at Thorin who shut his eyes and pursed his mouth.

 

“I'm sorry. This isn't going to work,” he said quickly, and Bilbo frowned deeply as the broad master took his hand and lead him straight back to the kitchen with great strides of his long legs, twirling Bilbo until he could force him onto a stool at the breakfast bar.

 

“What's wrong? I thought you liked what I was doing?” Bilbo asked and his voice sounded very frail, and Thorin shook his head.

 

“You're too short when you stand before me,” Thorin said with a tight smile as he pumped the stool up until Bilbo was eye level with him, “Better. I just need to clarify something so, would you allow me to be forward?”

 

“Of course,” Bilbo swallowed with the proximity of Thorin, his heat and piercing eyes in the low light of the kitchen consuming, “You are the man of this manor.”

 

Thorin didn't speak, but hummed in his throat as he lifted his hands and brought them up to Bilbo's jaw before he moved behind him, mimicking what he had done in the study earlier that day when Bilbo had fallen off his ladder and Bilbo shivered, grabbing the bar with his hands to keep still. The searing heat of Thorin's hands bit into his skin and as he fought to keep his whine quiet, it trickled out of his mouth regardless of how hard he tried to keep it down and Thorin let go quickly. He was back in front of Bilbo with a question in his gaze, his hands now on Bilbo's shoulders as he tried to get the green eyed beauty to look at him.

 

“Bilbo?” he pushed, softly but his voice was never going to be anything but demanding, not when it was so deep and enticing with the curiosity running through Thorin.

 

When he did raise his flushed face, Bilbo looked both ashamed and utterly besotted and Thorin had all of the clarification he needed. His hands quickly cupped Bilbo's jaw and he thumbed the soft skin of his cheek before ducking in quickly to kiss him, a soft press of lips, but with power and need behind it. Bilbo sucked in through his nose and grabbed onto Thorin's wrists to keep from falling backwards off the stool, his fingers tight and warm through the thin cotton of his shirt sleeves.

 

When Thorin had kissed him a few more times, he pulled back and pressed their heads together, “Please do not hold my attraction against why you are here. If I have made it awkward, I can only apologise, but only for that as I cannot be sorry for acting upon the fire you light inside my body every time I see you. For now, I will do nothing more, because I'm finding it very difficult to keep from tearing those dungarees off of you and having you in any way I can right on this bar. I have employed you for a job, it would be improper of me to take this further. I _want_ too though, so much.”

 

Bilbo licked his bottom lip and nodded quickly, “It's late, isn't it?”

 

“Don't believe me to be throwing you out. Goodness knows I want nothing less but I don't want to pressure you or make you feel uncomfortable in any way,” Thorin hushed, pulling back with a pained smile.

 

“No, I understand you,” Bilbo assured, kissing him softly to ascertain that, “I need to sleep. I'll be back tomorrow afternoon. I have a job to finish, perhaps quicker now?” he giggled.

 

It took all of Thorin's willpower to allow the tiny blond to leave and as he watched him shut the door to his van, Bilbo leant out of the open window as he started the van up.

 

“Forgotten anything?” Thorin wondered and Bilbo shook his head as the van reversed.

 

“No, just that, _technically_ , you don't employ me. Though the principle is still there, I don't work _for_ _you_ ,” he waved with a wink and then he was gone, disappearing down the lanes.

 

“He's right. Bratty sisters!” Thorin hissed at himself as he stalked through the manor, haunting the study for a while before taking his sorry, sleepy arse up to bed, “Fuck this house and it's _stupid_ amount of bloody rooms!” he barked and the manor moaned in displeasure under his stomping feet.

 


	5. McNuggets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McNuggets soothe the soul, or so Fili reckons. Thorin doesn't care, not when it leaves him in the house with Bilbo, alone. Bilbo, who is employed by Dis, not Thorin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am such an arsehole - i haven't updated in ages and i can't apologise enough for the wait. I can only say my excuse is i fell over and got caught up in another ship and totally got swept up in it and forgot my beloved bagginshield. What is wrong with me?! won't happen again now I've sailed for a while. I've got the balance going on. All good, bro.  
> This is entirely smut, my gift for being so lax with my updates. I will be a better ficcer and keep on top of it now (much like Thorin with Bilbs ;D) enjoy! It's not much, but it's somethin'. Thank you for sticking with me and all of the love, you make my day and make it easier to pick up and write.

 

“Frodo! Don't you – I told you to put that back in the van. Goodness boy, do I need to take you to the doctor to get your blasted ears checked?” Thorin chuckled at Bilbo's raging from downstairs.

“I didn't – that was Kili!”

“Wasn't.”

“What? You fuckin' liar!”

“ _Frodo Greyham Archibald Eugene Reginald Samuel Bartholomew Baggins_!” Thorin began laughing into his paperwork as Bilbo screeched. “Language, you insufferable boy!”

“Oh my god, are you _serious_?” Kili laughed, guffawing his way from the front door to the library with an hysterical Fili trailing him from the sounds of the footsteps banging through. “No wonder you said you had no middle name!”

“It's not my name! I _don't_ have a middle name, I don't. He says random names to humiliate me when I'm being a little shit. Does it to shut me up,” Frodo protested nastily and then Thorin quietened to listen, flushing warm at the sound of Bilbo laughing outright. What a beautiful sound, even if it was interjected with a snort like a pig. “Told you! Last week I swear there was a Frederick or Franklin in there.”

“Yes, he's right, there was. _Both_ of them!” Bilbo forced up in a high pitched voice before belting out a joyful laugh that was chorused by Thorin's own nephews chortling themselves into the floor, much to Frodo's heated frustration as he growled and dropped something.

“I hate the lot of you! So bad! I'm 19 for goodness sake, I don't need your permission to swear from time to time and I shouldn't be subjected to this kind of abuse when I do!”

“No, no no no, no don't sulk-” Bilbo was trying to pull in his mirth, it was clear by his voice and Thorin had to bite his fist to stop himself roaring along with them in order to listen through the floor. “Archibald.”

“Oh my god! I swear, I can't even. Nope. No. Yvanna wept Uncle, she _wept_!” there was the sound of the front door banging and Thorin chuckled into his fingers, pushing his glasses up to wipe the tears away. He stood from his desk and leaned forward to look over it and through the window at the driveway, watching with a smile as Frodo stormed across the lawn towards a massive Oak in the far corner. Bilbo was still giggling when the front door banged shut again, and stretching to look, Thorin smiled as Kili and Fili part strutted, part jogged after the kid with waves, almost tripping with their chuckles and trying to light cigarettes.

“Idiots.”

The radio came to life under him as he settled back in his desk chair. He would be in the study normally, but Bilbo had wanted to re-gloss the skirting and was busy emptying the library (with the help of his nephew and, of course, Thorin's, who happened to show up that morning with a stack of papers from Dis, easily agreeing to help when they had seen Frodo, knowing him well from college) so he could start painting the ceiling and coving, or so he said. So, Thorin had been relegated to the spare front bedroom to work, sitting under the massive window so he could get some light on the subject. He sneezed, three times in a row, dangerously close to smashing his nose off the desk by the third blow, so he pushed away and called it quits for a bit. It was past lunch anyway, and he was sure that if he stayed seated in there any longer, the dust would start claiming him like it had everything else. He stood, patted down his shirt and rolled the sleeves up past his elbows as he left the dusty space, leaving the door open in his haste to get away before he began sneezing some more.

“Mr Baggins?” Fili called as Thorin wandered along the landing, waving up at his uncle when he saw him emerge from the right hand side of the stairs case, still fighting his shirt sleeves up.

“Yes?” Bilbo yelled, turning the music right down, and Thorin fought to keep his bitch face on so Fili didn't catch onto anything. The last thing he needed in his stressed out life was his nephews even suspecting for a millisecond that there was anything between their uncle and his serviceman. Thorin bit his giggle back at the thought of _serviceman_ , because although Bilbo _was_ one, he wasn't the kind Thorin really wanted right now. Painting coving, posh, he needed to be painting Thorin's belly with some other kind of-

“Frodo's raging about term papers for college and Sam, Merry and Pip. Kili thinks it'd be a good a idea to go to McDonalds and shut him down with some good old fashioned hate eating. The McNuggets usually chill Frodo out. That OK? To take a lunch break?” Fili smiled so brightly as he ran a hand through his golden, dusty, paper spotted hair that even Thorin stopped half way down the main staircase, eyeing him suspiciously. That wasn't a smile that promised McNuggets.

“What are you planning?” Thorin grumbled as Bilbo came out the library.

Fili beamed at Thorin and winked so slyly that Bilbo caught none of it. “Why do you always assume I'm up to no good, Uncle?”

“When are you actually not up to anything that requires my suspecting attitude and a possible payout for damages?”

“Fair point,” Fili conceded after a quite moment of eyeing his uncle, Bilbo chuckling away.

“Yes, yes, go feed him. I want you back in a hour, two at a push. I know how far McDonalds is from here, so don't piss about and get him into trouble, OK?” Bilbo smiled sweetly, wagging his finger. “You might think your uncle is a force to be reckoned with, I've heard you warning Frodo about knocking things over, I have ears lad. No, he is _nothing_ compared to the level of hell I will unearth if you drag my lad into mischief. You know the whole _good things in small packages_? Hmm, well, remember this: poison and grenades come in little boxes too. Understood?”

Fili stopped smiling the second Bilbo had stressed the word _nothing_ with a look that suggested he not even dare think otherwise. Fili swallowed and nodded.

“Good, good. Get him a vanilla milkshake, he likes to dip his fires in it. It's absolutely _vile_ and I can't think why on earth he does it, but it usually produces a Frodo who isn't on his period,” Bilbo smiled sweetly again and Fili, dumbstruck, edged out the manor without another word. Thorin folded his arms over his chest and turned to Bilbo, narrowing his eyes whilst trying so damn hard not to smirk at that, but look annoyed that this tiny little man had stunned his ballsy, blabber mouthed nephew into an uneasy, even frightened, silence. “Uhm...”

“Oh no, I'm nothing compared to you, Grenade, so why are you shrinking into the floorboards?” Thorin growled and Bilbo's eyes went wide. He adored the fact that he had a bitch face and voice to match if he so wished, not even having to try to sound angry, it was his base setting. It might prove helpful where his nephews and his attraction to Bilbo was concerned – so easy to make them believe he loathed the decorator, when really, he wanted to bend the blushing beauty over.

“Oh, shit.”

“Mmhm.”

“Thorin I, I am _so_ sorry, oh my goodness you must think the worst of me now-” Bilbo snapped his mouth shut when Thorin smiled and started laughing at his panicking, barely able to keep it in. His eyes watered with his mirth and he was sure he looked like he was fighting to keep in a lot more than he was letting out, readily accepting the corkscrew punch to his bicep that Bilbo nailed him with. “Arse.”

Thorin quietened down and headed for the kitchen, aware of Bilbo's eyes following him, even after he went around the wall. He sparked up the coffee machine (Costa was weeping, he was sure) and dug about for mugs, idly wondering about fixing up a sandwich or five. He wasn't overly hungry, but he knew Bilbo always packed a massive cooler for his lunch every day and, as it was absent from the kitchen, he assumed he'd left it at home or something. When the radio didn't rocket up in volume, Thorin turned to lean his lower back against the counter and found Bilbo watching him from his slouch against the fridge-freezer.

“Tea?”

“Oh, yes please, Clark Kent,” Bilbo smiled, not moving at all while Thorin stared at him with a grin. He'd kept his glasses on, of course. He turned to stuff a decaf mocha capsule into his machine (something he hid on the top of the cupboard because they were a bitch to find and buy and he refused to share with Dis, the greedy two-cups-in-ten-minutes bitch) and shoved his mug under the nozzle. He multi-tasked putting a buttermint Twinnings teabag into the other, clicking the kettle on once he'd glanced to see there was water in the thing and it wouldn't blow up because he'd been too stubborn to reach over to the sink and fill it. Once. Once he'd blown the kettle up. Once was enough too, because _Mahal_. When all was done and waiting, he turned back around and folded his arms, crossing his ankles and wincing when Bilbo's eyes shot to where his trouser legs bunched up to reveal bright yellow socks.

“Sunny.”

“I like yellow.”

“Could have fooled me,” Bilbo grinned, his voice teasing and yet soft as he glanced around the kitchen with one popped eyebrow. Thorin's belly burned with stupid butter-fireflies as the blond licked his bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth.

“So, you're employed by my sister.”

“Yes, the terrible two's mother, I hear. Not you. Like I said,” Bilbo had a gleam in his eye and Thorin licked at the corner of his own mouth for a minute, calculating the tension and the stare he was being subjected to.

“Are they gone?” Thorin asked steadily even though his voice had to be forced up his tight throat.

“Hmm, half way to Lakeland by now. It's a long way to McDonalds,” Bilbo sighed dramatically, thumbing his wet bottom lip as he checked an imaginary watch on his other wrist.

“It is, takes forty or so to get there,” Thorin agreed. The kettle clicked off whilst boiling and warming the back of Thorin's neck with a billowing steam that rolled up the tiles and under the cupboards. “You want this tea?”

“No. You want that coffee?” Bilbo raised his eyebrows and tongued that damn lip as the coffee machine stopped hissing out foam. Thorin coughed and marched across the kitchen, taking off his glasses as he went.

“No,” he said, folding the frames and putting them in the gap between the buttons of his shirt. Bilbo hummed with acknowledgement and pushed himself up straight, quickly grabbing Thorin by the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss. Within a second, Thorin had his arms curled around Bilbo's waist and up his back, walking him around until he could lift him up onto something, sucking that lip into his own mouth to massage with his tongue and teeth. He thoroughly enjoyed the little hum he got for doing it, and the deep moan that followed as he licked it, Bilbo's mouth parting so he could lick inside it as well, his own groan breathed out against the tongue that snuck out to play with his. Thorin moved his tongue, massaged Bilbo's and swallowed his nasally moans, breaking off with a deep inhale so he could cup Bilbo's arse and lift him onto the counter next to the sink under the window.

“Bloody hell,” Bilbo hissed as he shuffled to get his bum back far enough that he didn't come tipping off, yanking Thorin in by his open collar and hooking his feet around the backs of his strong thighs, locking Thorin into the groove of his pelvis.

“Shit,” Thorin breathed when he realised that Bilbo had him tight between his legs, using the grip of his legs to hold himself straight while his little hands roamed up Thorin's neck, scratching at the shortness of his hair until he found the longer top strands and gripped, pulling him back down to kiss his mouth hungrily. Thorin could only plant his hands on the counter either side of Bilbo's hips, shifting his feet until he was literally moulding into the front of the washing machine, thighs pressing the dials and buttons and praying it didn't switch on suddenly.

“Bilbo, stop a second,” he muttered against plump lips and chuckled when Bilbo tore himself away, breathing as heavily as Thorin, eyeing him. He removed his glasses before they got broken and put them on the windowsill behind Bilbo.

“What is it?”

“Just, loosen up your legs a little, so I can...” Thorin breathed as Bilbo followed instruction instantly, and using the freedom, Thorin reversed a touch and put a hand on the small of Bilbo's back. He smiled at Bilbo's confusion, licking his lips deliberately as he used his hand to shove Bilbo towards him and the edge a little more. His small body locked again to Thorin's front and he pulled those secretly powerful legs back up until he felt Bilbo's ankles cross under his arsecheeks. Then Thorin tipped up onto his toes with his knees against the machine where nothing could get knocked on, and cradled Bilbo's head with one hand as the other gripped his hip and tugged again. Their groins were now perfectly aligned with Thorin's height and the angle of Bilbo's waist on the counters edge. “There we go. _Much_ better.”

“ _Oh_ sh-” Bilbo's cursed moan cut off when Thorin fisted the hair on the back of his head and slotted their mouths together, sucking his bottom lip in, licking it, licking into his mouth with a deep rumble in his chest that Bilbo could _feel_ without how pressed together they were. Then Thorin did the most spine tingling roll of his hips that had pressure and friction and heat generating up a storm in his cock, hiking Bilbo up a little with every upwards roll and clenching his legs to pull the man in tighter. He could grind and kiss and hold onto the little decorator without annoying the washing machine or worrying he would over balance in his need to get as close as absolutely possible to him and hit his head off the windowsill.

“Fucking hell, I can't stop touching you,” Bilbo rushed as Thorin tore his mouth away and latched onto the skin just below his jaw joint, behind his earlobe, and sucked and laved and moaned at the taste of him. Bilbo's statement was true enough, and Thorin might've laughed at it had he not got soft skin bruising between his lips; Bilbo's hands where roaming everywhere. His head, his face, his neck where he gripped the base of Thorin's skull when he hummed against his neck, down his shoulders, crossing under his own arms to tug and pull at his back and hips and then they dipped to his rolling backside. The grip was hot and insistent as Bilbo guided him to roll hard and slow, really pressing and grinding against him.

“Ever come in your pants as a teenager?” Thorin mumbled in Bilbo's ear, hissing through his teeth as his erection throbbed and burned against the fabric of his boxers and trousers, delicious and driving his pulse wild.

“Thorin,” Bilbo moaned weakly, “You can't say stuff like that. Grief. Yes, though, I remember doing that.”

“Fancy having a fresher memory of doing it?” Thorin sped up his thrusting a little, grunting when Bilbo's hands slipped into his back pockets to dig his fingers into the flesh of his bum.

“Don't think I'm going to have a choice, not with you doing this, _oh_ my goodness, _shit_.”

“Bilbo, you get my blood boiling, it's insane. I want to tear your fucking clothes off and do filthy things to you but I don't have it in me to take time to do that right now. I need this, _you_ , so much more, so let's ruin our pants,” Thorin grumbled, biting the juncture of Bilbo's neck and shoulder, sucking it gently while he rocked harder and held Bilbo fast by a hand on the base of his spine. “I don't think I've felt this turned on since I _was_ teenager, ah fuck, ohm-” he lost his voice to a deep moan as Bilbo's hands found his belt and loosened it enough to slip them under the waistband to grip his backside without the barrier of his trousers, or his boxers, it seemed. They were hot and needy as the fingers dug in, making Thorin roll his hips at a rate of knots as he leant to devour Bilbo's lips with a fierce kiss. He'd return the groping favour if Bilbo didn't have his fucking dungarees on, (the main reason he didn't want to stop because they looked tricky as hell and he didn't want to waste any time) but as he couldn't, he settled for fisting his hair and holding on as the blond seemed to ride him even though it was Thorin doing the dry fucking.

They broke apart to breathe and pant and groan and grunt, foreheads together until Bilbo threw his head back with a whine, gasping in air. “Oh, goodness, press just a little harder with your cock, Thorin, please, please just a little harder – oh, _hell_.”

“Mahal, you're something else like this, _fuck_ ,” Thorin swore, the vision he had burning up and down his back and firing into his groin like a bullet. He grit his teeth and pressed as much as he could, watching Bilbo swallow convulsively and pant around wet groans. He sucked onto his collarbone when he felt the burn of the fabric against his dick, a little too much to be comfortable, but he was right there, just a little more. His need to see Bilbo wailing or moaning or whatever it was he did when he orgasmed far outweighed his need to come himself. He could stave it while he waited. He sucked hard, panting and scraping his teeth up Bilbo's throat until he could tip his head forward and look him in the eye. Seemed to be enough for the decorator as he sucked in a sharp breath and held it, grunting out the air in little bouts as he went rigid and his eyes rolled in his head.

“Oh my God, _Thorin_ ,” Bilbo whispered quickly, sucking in much needed air through his nose while he watched Thorin come undone against him, his hips stuttering before the surge forced its way through him, and Bilbo quickly put their foreheads together to watch him, give him something to lean against as it hit. Thorin came while screwing his eyebrows together so hard the skin between went white and his eyes widened with a deep, raw, punched out groan that he didn't even try to keep quite, his mouth pulled open in a sort of pained smile as he grunted, licking his front teeth and scrunching up his nose. Thorin very nearly dropped to the floor and probably would have if Bilbo hadn't still been holding onto his arse; fingerprint bruises most likely living there now.

“Are you OK?” Bilbo chuckled, his face cheeky and flushed as Thorin shifted back a little to get some space, some cool air, between them. Bilbo dropped his legs, only a little though, enough so that his feet rested against the backs of Thorin's shaky knees and removed his hands slowly. His hair was a mess, sticking up at the back from Thorin's grabbing fingers. He wondered if the top of his 'do' was a state, but he didn't care right at that moment, he just needed to _breathe_.

“Yeah. Bit shaky.”

“I can see that.”

“Well, it was intense,” Thorin said lowly, smirking while lifting his feet to get the blood circulating a bit better. “All the blood I needed in my legs was in my cock, and now, ah, pins and needles.”

“Oh dear,” Bilbo snorted, outright laughing at him until he rocked back with in mirth and hissed. “My bum is dead.”

“Shouldn't laugh then, should you?” Thorin snarked, reaching to cup Bilbo's smiley face and kiss him. Not a soft, loving kind of kiss either, a heated thing that was hard and wet and made both of them suck in air through their noses as tongues danced. “Shouldn't do this.”

“No. Dangerous.”

“Hmm. Can't help it though,” Thorin chuckled, one last kiss, softer, before disentangling himself from Bilbo and moving back with a glance down at his soiled crotch. Good job he wasn't wearing his _dry clean only_ trousers today. “Need any boxers? I'm sure there's a pair that'll fit, but if not, baggy is better than nothing under those overalls.”

“You're not wrong there,” Bilbo mused as he hopped down and started un-clipping his straps. “I'll go clean off, seek out some pants and get back to my varnishing.”

“Boxers are in the third drawer of the thin chest by the mirrored wardrobe in the master bedroom.”

“I think I understood that,” Bilbo chuckled, tipping up to kiss Thorin's cheek before wandering off with a wince and a limp in his step, massaging his arse cheeks as he disappeared out of sight. “Tea, Thorin. I need it after that!”

“Sandwich?” Thorin called with a laugh as he clicked the kettle back on, shifting uncomfortably in his wet and damp underpants.

“Do you really need to ask that?” Bilbo answered incredulously as his footsteps bounded up the stairs. Thorin snorted and leaned his hip against the counter by the coffee machine and stared at his wasted mocha for a second, his heart still racing, then went about setting up another. He leaned in his spot again when the machine whirred into action and jolted as his cheeks pressed against the long handle of the cutlery drawer. Most definitely had resident bruises.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time, those dungarees are coming the fuck off - Thorin
> 
> must agree. I lied when i said it was gonna get softer before you needed to buckle up that belt and hold on for the ride because well... you read why ;) i can't keep them apart. it's an AU so, I'm playing :D


	6. Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin takes Bilbo out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've lost all momentum with this and I am deeply, deeply sorry. I will try to get back on track, but as of late, i really have no drive with it. I may put it on hold until I can give it full my attention, or i may orphan it. The ship is sailing shallow waters throughout the fandom, but that's no one's fault, it's just how it is now that the hobbit is slowly winding down. I will try, i can say that much. Thank you, for sticking with it for this long <3

 

Bilbo had constructed a monstrosity in the time Thorin had taken to pop into the company and back; the thing was huge and went all around the foyer. A scaffolding of some kind, covered in paint pots and decorating instruments and a blaring radio.  
  
“I thought you weren't ready to do this yet?” Thorin yelled up at Bilbo, who sat on the highest platform, carefully cleaning the coving with a little mask covering his face. “Bilbo!”

Thorin's booming yell had Bilbo jumping out of his skin, so immersed in his job and the music, making him wobble dangerously. He turned and lowered the volume, yanking off his mask to scowl, “Would you please, _please_ stop doing that? I'm somewhere near twenty feet in the air for goodness sake!”

“So keep the volume down and you'll hear me better,” Thorin teased, the barest or smiles curling his mouth as Bilbo frowned down at him.

“What did you say then?”  
  
“I wondered about you, up there, because you said you had the library to finish still?” Thorin said, carefully edging up the stairs to the landing so he could look across at Bilbo a little better. It would save the crick he'd no doubt get in his neck.

“Oh, yes, well. I finished that yesterday. I merely said I had some points to check with how the paintings were hanging, the furniture, that kind of thing. Gosh! That room took longer than I thought,” he blushed, chuckling as he dabbed his cloth into a pot of clear liquid. “Regardless of that bother, this needed starting if I'm to get the ground floor finished by the time the week is up. I have upstairs to do yet, and I got a call this morning for another job. I do hate having people wait for me.”

Thorin felt his stomach curl with the realisation that Bilbo would be finished in a week or so, and then, gone. Aside from the odd cuddle or kisses in the kitchen after a day of painting and fixing the smallest details, they hadn't done much together at all and Thorin was due back full-time in a few days, a mountain of paperwork waiting for him in his office. 

“I don't think I like this,” Thorin blurted, coughing to cover up his uneasiness and folding his arms as Bilbo raised an eyebrow in question. “Not this, your work, I mean. You finishing it. I rather like your company. I didn't at first because you're too bubbly and I am the darkest of dark, brooding like a dragon in a mountain," he sighed wistfully, "How can I keep you?”

“Oh, you darling,” Bilbo cooed, shifting to turn himself towards Thorin, capping his bottle. “I can still come back, you know, if you like me that much? I'm not going to sell myself all that much but you could do with some light in your life,” he grinned, cheekily and so adorably that Thorin found a smile curling up his face without being granted permission.

“Then I would like to propose a date, if you would be up for one, that is?” Thorin had never felt nervous in his entire life, but right now, he felt like the floor would give out and send him free falling for the rest of eternity. Bilbo smiled a big, bright beam of sun at him, nodding. 

“I would really like that, Thorin. Yes, that would be nice.”

 

\----

“So, you're taking the painter on a date? Slick, Uncle,” Kili winked over their dining table, nudging Fili in the ribs to have his brother in on it. Fili shook his head, smartly staying quiet.

 “ _Decorator_ ,” Thorin corrected with bite, stuffing Dis' home-baked stuffed paprika chicken in his mouth, signally that Kili should keep his mouth shut from now on.

 “I did wonder why you've been much more approachable lately,” Dis said offhandedly, scooping out some rice onto her plate. “Is he as sweet as he seems to be?”  
  
Thorin shrugged, chewing to hide the smile he knew would crack his face if he stopped. He grunted an affirming noise and Dis hummed, pouring out some fruit punch in all of their glasses. “He's finishing up the downstairs. You should come and see it when he's started on the top floor, you know, give it your approving eye?”

“What makes you think I'll approve?” Dis sniffed. 

Both Fili and Kili started up. “The study looks like it fell out of a stylists magazine, mom,” gushed Kili. 

“Oh yeah! The library is amazing. Real sleek,” Fili grinned, trying to spear the last carrot in the serving dish before Kili got a chance. Kili won out with his longer arms but Fili merely yanked his wrist and took it from his brother's fork before he could get it anywhere near his mouth. 

“The kitchen has a new lease of life too,” Thorin commented, humming when Dis popped up and eyebrow. “Oh yeah, he's a magician with paintbrushes. You'll approve. You will _so_ approve.” 

“We'll see, won't we?” Dis teased, though Thorin had a sneaking suspicion she meant more than the decorating. They fell into comfortable silence as they finished eating and when Thorin was helping clear the table, he noticed Fili fidgeting. 

“Spit it out.” 

Fili gaped as Kili sniggered, taking his plate out of the dining room while Thorin pinned his eldest nephew with a hard stare. “Bilbo likes daffodils and is a sucker for home-cooked food. He likes sweet wine and lazy walks.” 

Thorin frowned and stared further, “Excuse- _how_ would you know all of this?” 

“Oh God, don't kill us but Kee and I got talking with Frodo and we all noticed the flirtatious glances when you both thought we weren't looking. Frodo just, I don't know, supplied this information on the off chance that something would happen and you'd maybe date his uncle,” Fili rushed, hopping up from the table as Thorin edged closer. Thorin groaned and rolled his eyes. 

“I'm not going to whack you, grief boy. For once, I can't fault you... I need more details,” Thorin took a seat and his eyebrows suggested Fili continue with his inside information pronto.

 

 -----

Thorin requested his little blond decorator tell him where he lived, but Bilbo insisted he needn't pick him up and had, instead, arranged for them to meet up at seven in centre of the nearest town in the square. Again, the nervous flutter was draining Thorin of his life and he really did not like the feeling, waiting in one of his better suits with a daffodil pinned to his jacket. 

“Well, don't you look a picture,” Bilbo mused as he sauntered into view from behind Thorin. He was in dressed in a casual outfit of tight jeans, boots, shirt and dark green blazer. 

“As do you,” Thorin smiled, unpinning his flower to hand to Bilbo who gasped in delight. 

“Oh! These are my favourites! Such a gorgeous bright flower and they smell divine,” he chirped, sniffing the little bud before popping it into his button hole. “Thank you.” 

“My pleasure. Now, come with me,” Thorin took Bilbo by the arm and linked them together, walking lazily through the quiet town towards a small eatery he'd come to with Fili earlier in the day to scope out. It served the most delicious looking, heavenly scented home-cooked food Thorin and Fili had ever seen aside from Dis' meals. The owner had been a blushing, homely lady with curls aplenty and an attitude that put Bilbo's to shame, so joyful and sweet was she. 

“Oh! I've always wanted to come in here but I've never had the chance,” Bilbo looked like he was about to crawl out his skin with excitement as Thorin held the door open and followed his date inside. Mrs. Harrel came bounding over immediately and usher them both upstairs to the roof garden, seating them in a spot that gave Bilbo the perfect view of the parks and river lit up with the summer bunting-lights, out over the rolling hills and quiet suburbs. 

“Is everything to your liking, Mr Durin?” the bubbly woman beamed and Thorin nodded, smiling softly. She winked and took off, back downstairs to start with his plan. Bilbo didn't comment on the fact that she knew Thorin somehow, or that she failed to take any order for beverages or otherwise. He was too entranced by the little pots and plants and lights all around them, the iron fencing around the rooftop, the candles in lanterns hanging from a wooden pergola. 

“This is wonderful, Thorin,” Bilbo gushed as a waiter came to pour them a sweet white wine and hand them finger foods to tie them over until the starters came out. Throughout the meal, Bilbo chatted about his work, his family and Thorin listened to every single word, beamed at the man when he squeaked and sighed over how luscious the food was and how beautiful the setting was. Thorin, as he paid, felt extremely proud of himself.

“Come with me,” Thorin winked, hooking Bilbo again once they were back in the town square, leading Bilbo to a patisserie that was open until late by the theatre, allowing Bilbo to choose whichever delight he wanted, opting to forego one himself out of fear of popping the buttons of his shirt. Bilbo seemed to have an endless stomach as he munched his danishes and cupcakes, idly wandering at Thorin's side as he lead Bilbo along the river that ran the edge of the town, under the bunting-lights and past arrangements of flowers in the ground, in baskets and large pots. 

“I don't think I've ever had such a relaxed evening out in...well, ever, if I'm being honest,” Bilbo giggled as Thorin stopped them at the waters edge, smiling as Bilbo absently touched his daffodil. “Thank you,” Bilbo's face was soft and kind as he turned to look up at Thorin, genuine and happy, and Thorin barely cared about where they were, dipping to kiss that smile sweetly. 

“My pleasure, Bilbo. Would you like me to walk you to your car?” He offered, not at all wanting to do just that, if anything, he wanted to sit on a bench and chat for hours more, or, realistically, listen to whatever the hell Bilbo wanted to natter on about because all his ears wanted was the sound of his voice. 

“Needn't fuss over that now, Thorin,” Bilbo tittered, smirking to himself as he waved Thorin off and gazed down at the lights reflecting off the river. Whatever heat Thorin felt whenever he saw Bilbo in his manor, it had quietened down to a simmer, broiling into something else entirely now that he was staring at the side of the decorator's face, soft and relaxed and tinged pink slightly as he got caught up in whatever was running around under his blond curls. 

“You know,” Thorin started lowly, swaying a little as he looked up at the lights in mild interest, “I was set against having the manor done up. The idea had me cursing my sister, as well as everything else because I saw no issue with the way it was. Now, I can see I was wrong. I'm glad she pushed the subject... never repeat that to her, my life won't be worth living with the amount of gloating she'll unleash.” 

Bilbo chuckled and looked up from under his hair, soft smile playing his lips into a bow, “And what swayed you to admit such a thing, because I know enough to know that was a small miracle.” 

“Ah,” Thorin sighed, warm and giddy as Bilbo's quiet voice wafted over him and his smile melted his iced up edges, “That would be telling.” 

“Tell me else you will end up in the River Running,” came a light threat with a wagging finger. 

Thorin put his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels, scowling at the water, “I hate water. I can't swim. Never repeat that either. But I guess I could keep on with being truthful as you seem to have some magic about you that has my mouth working regardless of what my brain says.” Taking a deep breath and letting out through his nose, Thorin kept his gaze on Bilbo's curious eye and shrugged, “Might have something to do with you? Not the way you work, but... you. Just you.” 

Bilbo's whole face lit up and Thorin's chest tightened just a touch more than he thought it would, “Is that so?” 

“Hmm. I like you,” Thorin admitted gruffly, puffing out his chest as Bilbo's mouth curled into a devilish smile. It was all teeth and his eyes danced with mirth. “I feel like a bloody teenage boy right now,” Thorin hissed, fighting not to laugh over it as Bilbo took the few steps separating them, reaching up to pull Thorin down to his level with a hand on his neck. 

“Best do what teenagers do then, if the moment is so fitting,” he teased, winking and licking his teeth in such a manner than Thorin broke and began grinning, closing the tiny gap to catch his wily lips in a searing kiss, wrapping his arms around the blond's waist and locking his hands in the curve of Bilbo's lower back. 

“You realise,” Thorin began, pulling back a little, “That you'll be on the top level soon and that means you'll be close to my bedroom and that also means I may, or may not, have control over where my mind goes and in such circumstances, may distract you in order to get my wicked way as Lord of the Manor?” 

"Just to keep me longer, I see but," Bilbo hummed and winked, the flirty little shit, “Why do you think I started on the ground floor first?” 

Thorin blinked and then tipped his head, “You had a plan all along?” 

“Not on sight, no. I caught you eyeing my arse just before we set the schedule. You're to blame really, you know, I'm merely following your lead,” Bilbo teased, his grin getting worse by the second. Thorin raised an eyebrow as Bilbo pushed against him and decided he definitely liked this little sneak, growling before taking another kiss and deeply considering hiking Bilbo up over his shoulder in order to locate one of their cars and have his way with the minx. But he was more reserved than that and simply set to devouring the little noises Bilbo let out by licking them away with his tongue.

 


End file.
